In the summer swallowed by hype, it was understandable to buy into "Star Wars," "Eyes Wide Shut" or whichever celluloid vehicle Julia Roberts happened to be driving that week. It was OK to give in to the X-Games by the Bay, to be swept away by the Women's World Cup, even to succumb to Y2K paranoia.

But a full house at the Coliseum next week would be a disaster. It would be rewarding bad behavior. NFL exhibitions are not games. They are extortion. If you want season tickets, you buy the exhibition tickets, too. It's that simple and that awful.

An NBA preseason game makes "Eyes Wide Shut" look like an action-adventure flick. The censors insisted that Stanley Kubrick's orgy scene be covered up. Why doesn't someone stop Paul Tagliabue from putting on a warped show in prime time?

This particular obscenity is already a sellout. The lure of Raiders-Niners was too great for common sense to prevail. The game is a Rolex watch hanging from the lining of an overcoat, but if it's as close as you can get to the real thing, why not close your eyes and make the purchase?

The two teams haven't met since Opening Night 1994, and that was a momentous occasion. It was a blowout win for the Niners, a sign that they were on their way to their fifth Super Bowl title. Jerry Rice broke the NFL touchdown record, and Napoleon McCallum broke his leg and shattered his career. This time around, one part of that drama is possible. In exhibition football, victories and records mean nothing. Only the broken bones count.

The 49ers lost their starting tight end in their last outing. Greg Clark may not be back for a month. Was that worth beating the Seattle Seahawks with a big comeback? Did anyone believe that the game proved anything?

Steve Mariucci has already made it clear, several times, that he will use his starters sparingly against the Raiders. Usually, the third exhibition game works the other way. It's when coaches leave their starters in a little longer. But the Niners are banged up, and Mariucci probably knows that the hype surrounding this exhibition could create needless risks. He can't afford to chisel down his depth chart for the sake of exhibition bragging rights.

If there is any pride on the line eight evenings from now, it should be about who leaves the Coliseum with the lowest injury rate.

For the fans who find this event irresistible, we recommend a new set of cheers. Instead of "Dee-fense, dee-fense," try "Rest the starters, rest them now." If Steve Young lines up behind center on first down, Niners fans should chant: "Punt." Raiders fans should do the same for Rich Gannon.

Ideally, though, no one will express any sort of enthusiasm. Skullman will forgo his armor and show up in a polo shirt. The Terminator will wear a beret. No one else will be there to see them.

But we all know that's too much to ask. The Bay Area can't help but get excited. These two teams haven't met as crosstown rivals since the Raiders came back to the Coliseum in 1995. Over the last four years, they have started to grow more and more alike. Raiders have borrowed the West Coast offense. The Niners have adopted a rogue image, tinkering with the salary cap the way the Raiders once exploited loopholes in the playing rules. They both have young coaches. They both have loose-cannon owners. Or they did until recently, when Eddie DeBartolo packed up his toys and went to Florida.

Separated at birth or just by the Bay? Well, these teams aren't twins yet. And their fans definitely don't belong in the same parking lot together. It would help if the tailgaters stuck to the only appropriate libation for an exhibition game. In fact, O'Doul's should be the official sponsor of preseason football. Phony beer for a phony contest.

But surely, the beer, like the injuries, will be real. A few of the plays will be, too. You can see whether a receiver has his routes in order, and whether a cornerback's man-to-man coverage is on target. But a running back might make huge gains against a veteran defensive line wisely preserving its energy. Or he might lose yardage because his savvy offensive line is saving itself for bona fide competition. If a linemen has any job security, he'd be foolish to treat a preseason game with full respect. A 16-game regular season requires every ounce of adrenaline he can muster. No point in squandering it now.

So to the fans of the winning team next Monday night, we say: Save your energy, too. This game is a phony, and it's dangerous. If you want to see a phantom menace this summer, you know where to go.&lt;